


Shelter

by Enigmatic_Stardust



Series: To Become Deviant [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: End Game Spoilers, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Mentions of Blood, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), but figured I'd just mention it, well robot blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmatic_Stardust/pseuds/Enigmatic_Stardust
Summary: The androids won. They're free.Where can Connor go now that CyberLife is gone and his mission for the revolution is completed?What happens now?





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Shelter (Porter Robinson, Madeon).
> 
> Connor's still a bit more stiff with his dialogue in this one-shot since deviancy is still new to him? I figured that now that he's got time to freak out about everything he might fall back on more familiar dialogue protocols. Don't worry, he'll have his sass back in other one-shots.

The snow continued to fall long into the early morning. Connor stared up at the sky, drinking in the calm cool clouds that billowed by. The blue blood of the fallen deviants became buried beneath a layer of heavy snow. By the time the time the sun rose, Connor suspected that it would all have evaporated. Only the broken parts left behind by the dead would reveal the number of casualties from the revolution. He didn’t ask Markus for a final body count. The wounds were still too raw he suspected, despite their victory. There was a lot he didn’t ask Markus after the android leader left with his people to celebrate. Connor remained behind to watch the fading news helicopters and drifting snow.

A layer of ice now clung to his CyberLife jacket and hair. When he finally moved it was accompanied by the cracking of breaking frost. The shell fell away, leaving only the sprinkling of fresh snow on him. He held out his hand, catching some in his hand before walking. He didn’t have a destination in mind at first. His feet just started to carry him through the city, moving block to block without really seeing anything.

It wasn’t until he passed the tenth block that he slowly realized why he was simply meandering through the city.

He had nowhere to go.

No handler, no one to report to at CyberLife, no dire message to report to Jericho (he wasn’t entirely sure where they’d gone to now that the first battle was over).

He was alone.

Connor came to an abrupt halt as the panic of not knowing what to do started to set in. He needed an objective, a course of action, an order, something—but there was nothing. The grid of his mind was shattered, leaving only his own thoughts whirling around in his mind. He looked down at the ground, back towards where his footprints were slowly being reabsorbed by the snow leaving no trail for him to follow.

He looked at the streetlights, flickering on and off as they debated whether it was bright enough out yet.

He started walking forward again, crossing his arms and hunching his shoulders. He wasn’t cold, not really, but the gesture felt right. _Felt_. Why did it feel right? A shudder ran through him. ‘ _A glitch?’_ he thought but quickly dismissed the idea. Simply being a deviant erased the concept of having a glitch in his system, right?

He’d been a deviant for three days now, but it wasn’t until now that the reality began to set in. He’d been too busy to really think about. He’d simply dove into the rebellion, making up his mind about what _he wanted_ and what _he thought_ was right. He hadn’t lied when he told the others that the previous Connor, the one who hunted deviants, wasn’t really him…or was it? Those memories were still a part of him, still part of the string of fate that led him to this point and in the end, he had ultimately made choices that led to software instabilities, quiet pings in the corner of his vision that he pushed aside until finally ripping down his protocols. How many could have been saved if he’d followed those pings rather than insisting that his self-checking for deviancy was accurate?

Connor grit his teeth, holding his head. He knew his LED would be flashing beneath the beanie, bright and bold, announcing his internal conflict to the world. His simulated nerves twinged uncomfortably. He winced, frowning. He’d noticed that certain things bothered him now—they didn’t fall to the back of his mind. Discomfort, for instance, lingered, not that he’d processed it much due to the commotion of the past few days—hours. Connor frowned, looking over at the hole in his shoulder. He’d forgotten about the injury his other self had given him.

He reached over and put his fingers against the wound. Frozen thirium. That’s why he hadn’t continued to bleed, but it was also why it hadn’t started to repair itself yet. That wasn’t what he worried about. His anxiety stemmed from the ruined jacket, the only article of clothing he owned other than the “undercover” clothes he’d stolen from Hank before trying to track down Jericho. _‘There should be a spare jacket at the station,’_ he thought, but he didn’t start moving that direction. Instead, he kept moving forward, letting his legs carry him towards…well, he still wasn’t entirely sure. He had a brief moment of hesitation where he wondered if this was yet another hidden string of code being remotely activated, but as the blocks passed he realized he knew exactly where his subconscious was trying to take him and he stopped wavering. His strides became longer, more assured.

The sun was just passing the horizon when he reached the underpass. He narrowed his eyes as his lenses adjusted to the light. Before him was the food truck he’d spoken with Hank during his lunch break shortly after being assigned to him. Standing near the closed food truck, looking out towards the sun was Hank. Connor hesitated and stopped, watching Hank turn once he heard Connor approaching.

He was smiling. It was his usual lopsided, somewhat wry smirk, warm as ever. Connor could see the relief in his gaze upon seeing him.

Connor felt a smile of his own forming, a somewhat unusual expression he didn’t often wear without some hope to gain something from it. He liked it, along with the sudden calm he felt in his systems upon seeing Hank.

Everything was all right still.

Hank bridged the gap between them and pulled Connor into an embrace, which he returned once he processed the action.

“I’m glad you’re ok, kid. I got worried when you didn’t come home.”

Connor blinked, tilting his head a little when Hank pulled away. He still kept one hand on Connor’s uninjured shoulder, as if worried that if he let go Connor would run off again.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Well I don’t know where you used to go when CyberLife controlled you, but I doubt you can go back there now. I figured I’d find you outside my door this morning like some lost puppy. When you didn’t show though I started driving around looking.”

“Why here?” Connor asked, “Why not the station?”

“I checked there too. I didn’t go looking too hard in some spots though. City’s still pretty worked up over the whole android independence if you can imagine.”

He started to steer Connor over to the car.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand, Hank.”

“What’s not to understand?”

“Why did you think I would go to your home?”

Hank huffed in faux annoyance—a reaction that Connor was now quite used to, but appreciated all the more in his deviancy, “Just come on. You’re literally freezing. Don’t think I didn’t see the ice on you. Did you sit outside all night? Like I said, lost fricken puppy.”

 

Connor had mostly thawed out by the time they arrived at Hank’s house. Unfortunately, that left a puddle of water in Hank’s car along with some blue blood from his now bleeding injury. Hank didn’t miss this detail.

“Is that still from CyberLife?”

Connor looked over at the injury again and tried to shrug. It was less easy to push the synthetic pain away this time. He frowned, more out of confusion than discomfort. He resisted the urge to reach up and hold the injury. It shouldn’t be bothering him, it was minor and nothing vital was hit, but it hurt.

“It is. I believe my system’s recovery was delayed due to the temperature.”

“What the fuck, Connor? Is this going to be a thing now that you’re…” he gestured vaguely at Connor as if that would replace the word ‘deviant’, “You do realize CyberLife can’t fix you now if you get hurt, right?”

“Of course.”

Hank stared at him before huffing and gesturing towards the house, prompting Connor to head towards the door. He waited for Hank to open the door (“See, we use doors—not windows”) before following him inside. Sumo came over almost immediately, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he jumped up on Hank before giving Connor a curious sniff before heading off back to his bed. Connor watched Sumo with a smile before Hank dragged him off to the bathroom.

“Alright let’s get a better look at this.”

“I can repair myself now that I am at a more optimal temperature.”

“You say that and yet here were are.” Hank looked around the bathroom before shoving Connor over towards the tub, “Talk about déjà vu.”

Connor sat down on the edge of the tub, glancing up briefly up at the showerhead, “I’m not drunk though, Hank. You don’t have to worry yourself. I can take care of this on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah, just sit there a minute while I go find something that’ll fit you.” At Connor’s confused look he added, “Clothes. Your jacket’s got a giant hole in it and your shirt’s turning blue. I don’t care if it evaporates or whatever, it’s going to bug me.”

Connor tugged off his jacket once Hank left the bathroom. He started to carefully unbutton his shirt. The injury was still leaking thirium he noticed and further self-diagnosis confirmed that it likely wouldn’t stop until he entered rest mode to recover. He would likely need to replace some thirium later—Connor frowned. Where would he get that from now? Markus? Would it be sold at the old CyberLife stores like groceries were for humans? How would he earn money though to buy it if that was the case? Would he be able to work at the station? More questions started to pop up one after another.

“I think these will work—brought some duct tape too. Duct tape fixes everything right?”

Hank returned carrying an armful of clothes and a roll of silver duct tape. He set the clothes down on the sink and then kneeled in front of Connor, taking a closer look at the injury.

“Does it hurt? You told me before androids don’t feel pain, but…”

“Deviants do,” Connor finished, “I don’t think it’s the same as what humans experience, but it is more troublesome than in the past.”

“More like the broadcast tower incident?”

Connor nodded, “Something like that. Even that was different though. I was able to mute my sensors once I wasn’t actively going through system failure.”

“Dying you mean.”

He didn’t want to say the word, but Hank was right. He remembered the fear, yanking the knife from his hand, crawling across the floor, trying to call for Hank. He’d only barely made it in time.

Hank took a washcloth and wet it before trying to soak up some of the thirium. Before it could start leaking again, he took a strip of duct tape and pressed it onto the injury, repeating the same on Connor’s back where the exit wound was.

“See? Bandage. My dad used to use duct tape whenever he got cut doing construction or yard work.”

“Thirium doesn’t clot,” Connor acknowledged a little uncertain.

“I don’t want you staining my couch—plus you don’t want to lose too much thirium, right? That shit can’t be cheap.”

Hank checked over his handiwork before standing back up, pointing to the clothes on the sink, “Go ahead and change into that. I’ll get the couch set up with some sheets.”

“I don’t require any—“

“—you don’t require a lot of things. Just get your damn clothes on.”

Connor obeyed, tugging on the too large t-shirt. He was a little confused as to why Hank gave him a pair of pants as well (his own pants were still functional—there was no blue blood on them) but he changed into the sweatpants, deciding that it was better not to argue at this point. He left his old clothes on the edge of the tub and got up, intending to leave the bathroom only to pause at his reflection in the mirror. Nothing looked different. His LED flickered between blue and yellow, favoring the prior more often than not. He reached up, touching the ring, but after a moment he let his hand fall.

He left the bathroom, heading down the hall to the living room where he found that Hank had set up a makeshift bed on the couch, complete with sheets, a blanket, and a pillow.

“It’s daytime?” Connor stated uncertainly.

“You need to go into rest mode to repair, right? Besides, I don’t know about you but I’ve haven’t had more than three hours sleep in the past few days so I’m taking a fucking nap.”

Connor went and sat down on the couch.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“How many personal questions you still have logged in there?” Hank’s tone though suggested that it was allowed, so Connor continued.

“Why are you doing this?”

Hank chuckled, “I thought being deviant meant you got all of this now. Look, we’re partners, right? You said so yourself back when you first got assigned to me. I don’t know why this is news to you, but you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Connor smiled, “I guess you’re right.”

“Get some rest, kid.”


End file.
